


Women Who Pity Old Men

by AnnieVH



Series: Behind Closed Doors [29]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Angst, F/M, Rumbelle - Freeform, pre-rumbelle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 00:19:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3670437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieVH/pseuds/AnnieVH
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Gold goes home after his fight with Belle.<br/>Set after "Let Down Thy Golden Skein"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Women Who Pity Old Men

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter contains mild emotional and physical abuse.
> 
> Pairings for this verse: eventual Rumbelle and Swanfire.  
> Warnings for this verse: abusive relationship, implied non-con situations, child-abuse, violence, infidelity, very anti-Milah.
> 
> A HUGE THANKS to Maddie (maddiebonanafana.tumblr.com) who did the beta for this one-shot!

Had it been any other day, Rumple would have felt guilty for being so harsh on the poor girl. But this was far from being any other day. This was the end of what had been two very unpleasant weeks and he was in no mood for pity.

He had already endured enough of it from Graham, as the Sheriff helped him get his wife home from the library. Then, from Bae, who spent most of their dinner asking questions he _knew_  made his father feel uncomfortable.

“ _You promised me that, if she slipped again, no matter how small, you’d leave. Were you lying? Well, I know you got into a fight and you’re still_ _t_ _here._ _How does that work?_ ”

Rumple had meant it. He really had. He only returned home last year because he thought Milah would start making an effort. And she had, even if Bae didn’t want to acknowledge it. She had finally agreed to therapy, her drinking was under control, and that had been their first fight in over a year. And even then, she had the right to be mad.

“ _Oh_ ,” Bae had said, bitter. “ _I want to hear you rationalize_ that.”

Rumple knew he gave Milah too much lenience whenever her temper was concerned. But this time, it wasn’t even that hard. Her son had put her face on his main antagonist. How was she not supposed to be heartbroken?

“ _I knew it. I knew it was because of that damn drawing. I told you not to show her._ ”

A long time was wasted convincing Bae that he hadn’t shown her the picture. He wasn’t a complete idiot. But it was Valentine’s Day and she opened his briefcase to see what he had gotten her. Instead she found a picture of herself dressed as a pirate, with a hook, bullying a character that looked an awful lot like  _him_.

At least Baelfire had the decency to look guilty over it, but he still refused to talk to his mother, about that or anything else. He gave his father permission to tell her that he was only experimenting, though, and that he wasn’t going to keep it for the graphic novel. And that it was in poor taste. He couldn’t drag an apology out of him, but she told Milah Bae was sorry either way.

Didn’t do much. She still refused to get out of the house, and the only times she addressed him had been to complain. The topics varied.

“You couldn’t be bothered to do the dishes before you left the house?”

“Jesus, Malcolm, your hands are  _freezing_! Don’t even  _think_  about it!”

“I hate this cologne, why do you even have it?”

“Yes, I do mind you’ll stay after hours in your shop. Not that you care for my opinion.”

Managing her moods was taking up such a large portion of his time that doing anything else had become close toimpossible.

And now there was this girl, going into his workplace and passing judgment on his choices because, apparently, Bae was putting together an army!

“And Milah thinks she has a crush on me,” he mumbled to himself, as he parked in front of his house.

Before, when Milah first told him her suspicions, he had almost laughed at the thought. Although, if he had to be completely honest with himself, it was a little flattering. Especially when you’re married to someone like Milah, who effortlessly demanded the attention of everybody in any room they walked in. She didn’t even have to say a word. No one cared for the scrawny little husband that followed. The one that was probably rich because how else did he manage to marry a woman like that?

 _By getting her pregnant, that’s how_ , he thought, bitterly, as he entered the house.

Belle was not only younger than their son, she was educated, had a mind for business, and made him feel comfortable. Not that he’d ever act on it if it were true, nor that he’d ever entertain the idea of Belle being romantically – or sexually, for that matter – attracted to him. But it was good to feel wanted.

And it was nice to have a friend. Or at least he thought they were becoming friends. He thought she enjoyed dropping by the shop to vent about her day, or talk about books, or tease him over his mess.

But she had her library now. He wasn’t needed anymore. In fact, her first visit in two weeks had been a favor to his son. Or maybe she was worried about him? Honestly, he couldn’t chose which once was worse. She probably thought, just like Bae, that he was a pathetic old man who couldn’t make the right decisions regarding his own well being.

Let them think whatever they wanted to. He knew what he was doing. He was trying to save a difficult marriage, like a faithful spouse should. But above all, he was taking care of his wife. For all the tough exterior, Milah’s heart broke so easily and so often it had always been a constant source of worry for him. Anger was always followed by melancholia, and he couldn’t decide which one was worse. Sometimes he thought having her pick fights over petty reasons was better than coming home to find her still in bed, those haunted eyes losing focus and not even acknowledging his presence.

At least today the bottle of whiskey was still in the cabinet, the liquid inside untouched. If Milah had ventured outside the bedroom, she hadn’t gone anywhere near it. When he entered the bedroom, she was under the covers, just as he had left her.

He sat down by her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. Though her eyes were wide open, he still gave her a little shake. “Hey, sweetheart. You’ve been here since I left?”

She didn’t answer.

“Come, love, it’s time for dinner.”

“I didn’t make dinner,” she whispered, lachrymose.

“I’ll make dinner and you can help me. How’s that?”

He could see by the lack of expression on her face that she wasn’t even considering it. It wasn’t a surprise when she started sobbing.

“He  _hates_  me!”

“He doesn’t hate you, love,” he said, very softly, hoping his voice was convincing enough. “He’s just a little angry.”

“I thought you’d help me. You said you’d convince him to forgive me.”

Rumple chose his next words carefully. He knew the slightest mistake would set her off.

“I’m trying, love. But you know Bae. He’s stubborn. And these things take-”

“You’re not trying!” she snapped. “It’s been almost ten years and he still thinks I’m a monster!”

“He doesn’t think-”

“But he still loves you. You’re an angel. You never do anything wrong. Everything’s my fault. When you suggest his friend for a position, you’re a saint. I spend two weeks helping in that library and he won’t even say hello when he’s in town. You must be very pleased.”

“You know I’m not.”

“Right.”

“Honey, I want you both to get along.”

She sniffed and rubbed the tears off her eyes roughly. Getting herself under control, she said, “Go sleep somewhere else. I don’t want you here.”

He kept rubbing her shoulder. Kept is voice soft and careful. “Milah, you shouldn’t be alone-”

“ _I don’t care what you think, Malcolm, just get out_!”

She acted quickly. One hand pushed him off the bed, the other pulled the covers over her head. Milah disappeared and all that was left of her were her sobs.

Rumple got up from the floor, eyes on the little lump under the covers that was his wife. His hip complained when he moved, but his mind was too busy trying to find a solution to care.  Insisting when she was like that wouldn’t help. But giving her some time for herself didn’t always have the best results. Neither did calling Dr. Hopper behind her back.

_God, how am I going to fix this?_

He wished he could just call Bae and have them talk it over, but that would require both his wife and his son to act sensibly. Milah was far from it when she was like that. Baelfire was still too resentful.

Then, Belle’s voice rang in his ears. “ _In case you need my help, well, I mean, with_ anything _, you just have to tell me_.”

That was tempting. It was probably an empty offer, just to be polite. But maybe she’d know something, some book in the library. She’d likely tell Bae about it, but it wasn’t a crime to be sad and miss a child. If anything, it might actually help Milah’s case.

It didn’t take him long to remember the way he had treated her though.

 _Congratulations_ , he told himself, listening to his wife’s cries.  _You successfully alienated the only person who could help you._

Guilt hit him like a brick. Guilt over the way he had treated her, as well as over the helplessness of standing in the middle of his bedroom, listening to Milah sobbing into the pillow and being able to do absolutely  _nothing_.

Hypocrisy be damned, Rumple needed a drink.

**Author's Note:**

> A list of all one-shots in verse chronological order can be found here: http://annievh.tumblr.com/post/102166515522/behind-closed-doors-warnings-domestic-abuse
> 
> I'm still taking prompts for this verse if anybody wants to send them.
> 
> I'm also doing a ASK MY CHARACTERS (annievh.tumblr.com/ask).


End file.
